The zombie moaned, then jerked as the Undead Management Negotiation Device bolted to it’s skull gave off a slight shock, Pengi # 05 mechanically warking at it angrily. With a huff, the zombie went back to swishing his net in the canal, as the 2nd zombie rowed the skiff, the 2 iron pengi on board directing them with mechanicle warks, zaps of the U.M.N.D’s and the occasional iron flipper to the back of the head. Teams of pengi and undead laborers had been scouring the canals, alleys, yards and rooftops for peices of Grendel since the explosion at the plant, so far they had amassed at least 9 fingers (though some may have been toes) a spleen, the heart (stil running, or at least the cogs were) and a dozen perfectly fresh wigglyfish the pengi immediatly held a traditional viking funeral for (aka: a fish fry), and the brain.
Footman had left programmed in each pengi’s cognigators precise instructions on what to do with his parts if ever exploded, the brain was a tricky one, they had instructions how to preserve brains in preperation for transplants, but had never actually aided in one as they had no fingers in their design, it was # 45 who had the idea of using the zombie laborers. Generally only used for base grunt work, late at night out of prying eyes of the city (who, after a few outbreaks tend to panic when seeing a walking corpse most times.) 45 figured in an emergency like this, small details like somewhat controlled zombies being released in the city during the day could be overlooked, Plus, it wasn’t plauge season right now anyway.
Under close supervision, one of the laborers was chosen and quickly dressed in operating scrubs. Through trial, error, electric shocks, and blows to the head, (and about 5 laborers as the pengi kept inadvertedly killing them), the brain was transferred to a jar of serum, and connected to a basic voicebox and imagifier. The pengi directed the zombi to power it up, and Grendel’s voice came online over the speaker. “I have such a headache”